


Exegesis

by karikes



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 16:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11361510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karikes/pseuds/karikes
Summary: At first, only the gray of his instructor uniform registers. Nyota gasps, sucking in water and air all at once. Then she processes the point of his ears, the straight line of his hair across his forehead, and his green tinged cheeks.“Ish-veh vesh' ri t'nash-veh lof tor aishan du klau.It was not my intent to cause you harm,” Nyota says, her teeth chattering. She glances at his rank stripes, water dripping down her nose. “Commander.”An exploration of the six stages of Spock and Nyota's relationship, from their meeting to post-Beyond.





	1. This is how they meet

It’s raining so hard Nyota can barely see. Her bag is clutched tight to her chest, full of padds she’s been studying for her Advanced Morphology final. She blinks water out of her eyes as a cadet rushes past, his jacket just as soaked as hers.

The lights of her dorm grow closer, but water is in her boots now and dripping into her underwear. Nyota can’t run faster or she’ll slip on the walkway, so she settles for a hurried walk, her eyes focused on the pavement beneath her. 

She slams into someone, her arms crushing her bag into her chest. The breath leaves her body in a whoosh and she staggers back, trying to figure out what just happened. 

At first, only the gray of his instructor uniform registers. Nyota gasps, sucking in water and air all at once. Then she processes the point of his ears, the straight line of his hair across his forehead, and his green tinged cheeks.

“ _ Ish-veh vesh' ri t'nash-veh lof tor aishan du klau. _ It was not my intent to cause you harm,” Nyota says, her teeth chattering. She glances at his rank stripes, water dripping down her nose. “Commander.”

“ _ Rai thrap nam-tor taken wilat rim nam-tor putan-tor. _ No offense is taken where none is given,” the commander replies evenly.

His hands had flown out to steady her when she ran into him, but now they hang at his sides.

Nyota stares past his shoulder at her dorm. Her jacket is completely soaked now.

“Have a good evening, Commander,” she says in Standard. She doesn’t wait for his reply, because she’s moving as fast as she can towards the warmth of her dorm room.

Nyota tells Gaila that she bumped into a Vulcan on the way back to the dorms while she peels off her uniform.

Gaila makes a funny noise in the back of her throat. “That would be Commander Spock,” she says, annoyance seeping into her voice. “First lifeform I’ve ever met that refused sex with me, even after I assured him I expected no favors in return. ‘Fascinating,’” Gaila attempts to imitate the even tone of all Vulcans, failing miserably. “‘But unnecessary.’ Who the hell thinks sex isn’t necessary?”

Nyota sighs as she undoes her bra. “Gaila, you took Interspecies Ethics with the rest of us. You know Vulcans aren’t like most humanoids when it comes to sex. Besides, you don’t know that he was saying sex was unnecessary. He might have just been saying sex with you was unnecessary.”

“Yeah well, Commander Spock is a hardass and of fucking course he didn’t want to have sex with me. Did you know he once gave us a pop quiz on the  _ recommended _ reading for Warp Theory?”

“I do now,” Nyota says, rummaging through her drawer for dry underwear. “I don’t know why he was just standing there or whatever. Running into him requires him to have not been looking where he was going either. Which is odd, because Vulcans do everything with intent.”

She pulls her nightgown over her head. “It’s pouring out there. He was obviously cold, his cheeks were green. He was just as soaked as I was, too. It can’t be any more comfortable for him to be in the rain than it was for me. I mean, it might even be worse due to him being non-Terran. I wonder if Vulcans catch colds?”

“Nyota,” Gaila says exasperatedly. “Stop. It’s not important. Commander Hardass probably doesn’t give a single shit about you catching a cold. Why do you care? You bumped into him. It’s not a big deal. Now, tell me you’re coming out for drinks tomorrow night. It’s been so long since we had some fun.”

“Gaila,” Nyota imitates her roommate’s tone of voice perfectly. “It’s been so long since I last had something approaching what they call free time.”

She pulls the padd with her Betazoid-Standard dictionary out of her bag. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some reading to do before bed.”

Gaila snatches the padd from Nyota’s hands and holds it away from her body. “They don’t even offer Betazoid at the Academy. You choose this stuff over sex?? Sometimes I feel like you’re the alien in the room.”

“Give it back, Gaila.” Nyota grits her teeth and grabs her roommate’s arm. “How I choose to spend what little time I have to myself is none of your business. Besides, I’m a xenolinguistics major. It’s kind of important that I know a lot of languages. I  _ like _ learning, and I want to go over subjunctives for half an hour before I go to sleep. I’ve told you a thousand times, I don’t have time for sex and the inevitable catching of feelings afterwards.”

Gaila finally relinquishes the padd. “There’s a Coridani woman in my astrophysics class who’s cute and single. Want me to give her your comm number?”

Nyota is already pulling out a stylus and holosheet, the dictionary padd shining blue on her desk. “Only if it’s to practice speaking her language. I haven’t had a real chance to speak Coridani and I have a question about their vowels. I would like to get an answer from a native. It’s not really the same listening to a computer spit out the syllables.”

She bends over her desk, the pale pink of her nightgown stretching against the curve of her back.

Gaila stares at her for thirty seconds before sighing so long and loudly that Nyota actually looks up from her scribbling.

“What?”

“Nyota, you need to get laid.”

Nyota does not lift her head, her stylus still moving across the thin plastic of her holosheet.

“Mhmm.”

“Nyota!” Gaila’s voice is sharp enough that her roommate sets her stylus down and turns around to look at her. “Go have some sex.”

Nyota slides her stylus carefully to the edge of her desk, her fingertips playing along the smooth gray surface.

“Gaila. Half the cadets and a quarter of the instructors would gladly fall in bed with me the moment I asked. You will notice that my bed remains free of visitors. It is because I want it that way. If I wanted to go out and have lots of sex, I would. Thank you for your concern.”

She picks up her stylus again and returns to her careful writing.

It has been a long time since Nyota got laid. Maybe too long. But she doesn’t have time for dating and keeping her grades up, and casual sex isn’t really her thing. If she had a fuck buddy with no strings attached maybe that would be nice, but there are always strings attached. So she hasn’t had sex in a long time. Not a big deal. She’s a grown woman who owns a vibrator.


	2. This is how they fall in love

Nyota applies for five TA positions in the fall. Every single teacher wants her. She deliberates carefully about which teacher she would rather work for. 

Commander Nguyen is a careful teacher who cares about her students’ success in her class. Nyota took Beginning Morphology from her her first semester at the Academy, so she knows her teaching style and personality. She often allows extra credit, which means extra grading. Nyota wouldn’t mind the extra work, but she thinks that she would go insane spending so much time with the commander’s bouncy personality.

She politely declines Commander Nguyen first, stating that she is flattered but unable to accept her request.

Lieutenant Commander Voss has a reputation among xenolinguistics students. He only gives two tests, a midterm and a final. He drinks a cup of coffee during his lecture, black with no sugar. The lecture is finished when his coffee is. His office hours lead to tears and frustration due to his inflexibility of phrasing.

Nyota deletes his offer from her inbox without replying.

Commander Newman sleeps with all her TAs, but Nyota applied anyways, knowing she could take her as a last resort just in case. Due to the high volume of responses to her applications, she knows that she doesn’t have to bother. 

Nyota carefully phrases her response so the commander will not read between the lines and assume that any part of her rejection is a flirtation.

Commander Spock does have a reputation as a hardass, but he is a Vulcan and that should be taken with a grain of salt. Nyota also hasn’t had the chance to speak Vulcan in a year and a half. She also knows that he is a fair grader, despite assigning large amounts of work. She’s never had the chance to take a class from him, but Gaila did well in his class despite her complaints, so Nyota knows it would be interesting to be the commander’s TA.

She considers the three lines he wrote in response to her application for two days.

Lieutenant Commander Yares seems to be a par for the course teacher. There’s nothing to distinguish him from his colleagues in his teaching style or exams. But he has served an extended period of time in the black and she did hear some interesting stories when she took Intermediate Phonology from him last semester. 

Nyota knows he will be a decent officer to work for. She does not reject him with written words, instead dropping by his office hours.

“I’m going to be working for Commander Spock this semester,” she says politely. “But I was flattered that you wanted me. I really enjoyed you as a teacher. I hope your TA this semester is good.”

“Not as good as you,” Yares says with a smile. “I know I have competition this year, though. I hope Commander Spock is as good to you as you deserve.”

Commander Spock is at his bookshelf when she taps on his open door. He turns, a graceful movement. There is a brief pause while his eyes flick over her form. It’s assessing, not sensual in any way. Nyota knows when she’s being checked out, and the commander is not doing that.

“Commander Spock,” she says firmly. “I wanted to let you know that I’m accepting your TA position this semester. I look forward to working with you.”

“A response to my message would have sufficed, Cadet Uhura,” he replies. His face is smooth, his voice so monotone that Nyota would have thought he was angry with her if it weren’t for the pointed cartilage of his ears. 

“I know,” she says primly. “But I was already in the building and I wanted to tell you face to face.”

The commander’s eyes hold hers in place for a moment before he sets the padd in his hands on his desk.

“Very well, Cadet Uhura. I require your class schedule by tomorrow.”

Nyota pulls her personal padd from her bag. She quickly brings up the document that holds her schedule and sends it to the commander.

She smiles brightly as his padd vibrates on the synthetic wood of his desk. “Anything else, sir?”

Commander Spock reads her schedule carefully, his eyes landing on her again once he is finished. 

“I will send you your work hours within the next fifty-three minutes.”

He picks up his stylus and starts writing notes on his padd.

Nyota stands there for thirty seconds before she realizes that she has been dismissed. 

“Have a good evening, sir,” she says, not allowing her irritation to reach her voice. She shouldn’t be irritated with someone who does not observe the same cultural niceties as she does. Besides, she’s not sure if she can be mad while she’s staring at the commander’s beautiful features.

*

Commander Spock is not an unfair employer despite the amount of time Nyota spends in his office. Every one hundred minutes, he informs Nyota that she is permitted to take her ten minute break. She takes the chance, always, to stretch her legs or use the bathroom. 

Every once in awhile, the commander will accompany her to the rec room to get a cup of tea. He always drinks tea from Vulcan, sharp flavors that make his office smell like his home planet. Nyota prefers floral notes in her teas, the soft scent of jasmine that curls across her shoulders to mingle with the perfume she wears.

Commander Spock eats almost as many salads as she does, which means it’s easy to grab food for him when they stay late grading tests. He doesn’t eat beets, though, which makes Nyota laugh a little when she first discovers this fact.

“I’ll take them,” she offers, stretching her arm out to spear a piece of the offending root vegetable.

The commander’s eyes follow the movement of her arm as she removes every beet from his salad. He does not stop her, or tell her he wishes her to.

Things are somehow a little less formal between them after that. The commander sends her two scholarly articles on the expanding use of Romulan among planets along the Neutral Zone and how their cultures are also changed by Romulan influence after Nyota mentions a brief interest in it.

She does not touch him. If the commander were human, Nyota would consider them friends outside of work, place a hand on his arm occasionally. But she is not even sure Vulcans cultivate relationships outside the workplace besides familial ones. Every single padd on Vulcan society is so sparse. If Vulcans weren’t so intensely private, Nyota would feel like she has a better handle on her relationship with Commander Spock. He’s less constricted, both in posture and in tone, around her as the semester progresses, and he even begins to offer pleasantries sometime in November. 

They are not friends, though.

Nyota does not invite him out for drinks with Kirk, Bones, and Gaila. She does not ask for his company when she visits art museums or gets coffee on the weekends. She does not laughingly touch his wrist or pull him in for a hug, or even stand too close. She is not going to break any rules, Starfleet or Vulcan. 

They still use formal addresses when they converse in Vulcan.

Spock does, however, ask after her health. Nyota does meet his mother when she is on Earth, because Amanda Grayson did work on the universal translator, so it’s only logical the two linguists meet.

Spock’s mother is courteous and kind. She laughs at Nyota’s jokes and offers some valuable insight into a project Nyota is finishing about phonemes in various alien languages juxtaposed with Standard.

When Nyota stands to leave, Amanda touches her arm. “You must be quite something for my son to want you to meet me. I’ve never met any of his TA’s before.”

Nyota laughs. “Amanda” -Spock’s mother had insisted, despite Nyota’s discomfort with calling the woman who birthed Commander Spock anything approaching informal- “You are a fellow xenolinguist. I’m sure that’s all there was to it.”

Amanda arches an eyebrow. “My son’s only friend is the head of the xenolinguistics department and I have never met her.”

Nyota’s breath catches in her throat for a moment. She hasn’t allowed herself even to think of that possibility. “Maybe Commander Edwards’ schedule isn’t suitable to yours.”

“Maybe my son wanted me to meet you and he doesn’t particularly care for me to meet his friend.”

Nyota clutches her bag to her side. “I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, Mrs. Grayson. Commander Spock and are not even friends. The most intimate thing we have ever done is eat lunch together while we worked.” 

She scoots her chair under the table and offers the  _ ta’al. _ “I hope the rest of your stay here is pleasant, Mrs. Grayson.”

Nyota walks out of the cafe and makes it two blocks towards the Academy before her hands unclench from her bag. They are shaking, and she does not know why. 

*

After final exams, Nyota comes by to clean out her drawer in the desk that was hers for the semester. There’s only a couple of styluses and a packet of trail mix she forgot sometime in September, but she wants to leave it clean for the next TA.

Spock is doing something on his padd while she grabs her things and shoves them in her bag.

“Have a good winter break,” Nyota says softly, knowing that he will not have anything except an “acceptable” one.

Spock looks up, his gaze as intense as always. “Likewise.”

Nyota doesn’t know if he’s still looking at her, because she’s turned and walked out of his office, afraid she’s going to do something very stupid if she stays. She asks herself what the hell she would have done on the shuttle flight home. She turns it over while hugging her fathers and while she eats  _ maandazi _ in the kitchen she grew up in. She still cannot conjure up any reason she would have lingered or even done something she would have regretted. She can’t even think about what that something would be.

Baba and Dad give each other this look the fifth night Nyota is home.

“Nyota honey,” Baba says. “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing,” Nyota replies absentmindedly, her stylus tapping a staccato rhythm on the tabletop. She’s supposed to be sending Gaila a message right now, but she’s been staring at the kitchen window for an undetermined amount of minutes.

“Nyota, you incorrectly conjugated a verb yesterday.” Dad just looks at her with the same look that caused her to confess to stealing cookies when she was four.

“Fine.” Nyota carefully places her stylus next to her padd. “I think I have feelings for someone, and I have no fucking clue what to do about them.”

Baba raises his eyebrows. “Nyota Uhura doesn’t know what to do? Good heavens, I need to call the police. Tell me about them.”

“He’s half-Vulcan,” Nyota says slowly. “I’ve met his mother, because she’s a linguist too. I was his TA last semester. I’ve got no clue what’s going on inside his head. I just- I feel a little on the edge of something when I’m around him. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know if he feels anything for me, but his mom said something weird to me.”

Dad crosses his arms and leans back. “What did she say?”

“That her son has only one friend. She’s the head of the xenolinguistics department, and Amanda has never met her. But she met me, Spock’s TA for a single semester.” Nyota shrugs violently. “I informed her that all we did was eat lunch together while we worked. The most Spock has ever done is offer pleasantries and send me scholarly articles.”

“There’s rules against fraternization, right?” Baba asks, his hands resting on the table.

“Yes,” Nyota says firmly. “Relationships are only allowed if the cadet is in their third or fourth year, have no classes or otherwise contact with the officer, and inform Lifeform Resources of the relationship. Fellow cadets are not allowed to be informed of the relationship unless it is unavoidable. If any evidence of favoritism is discovered, the officer is stripped of their rank and the cadet is ejected from Starfleet permanently. Basically, they’re allowed, but they want to discourage it as much as possible.”

Both her fathers raise their eyebrows. 

“I see,” Baba says. 

Dad just looks at her. “So you like him, but you aren’t sure of his feelings, if there are any, and if it’s even worth the bother to say you like him.”

“Pretty much.” Nyota pinches the bridge of her nose. “I can’t stop thinking about him. I hate it.”

“The first time I liked a boy, I carved his name into my desk and got three weeks of detention,” Baba says. “Think about it carefully. If you want advice, your father and I are here.”

Dad looks at Baba, his hand sliding to grasp his. “And I got detention on purpose so I could be with you,” he says, smiling.

“You’re gross,” Nyota says, but she’s only saying that from reflex now, not because she’s so young she believes romance is stupid.

She still doesn’t have time for a relationship. Feelings are stupid and she needs to just ignore them.

*

Nyota goes back to school in January, firmly resolved to just ignore her realization that she would have kissed Spock that day. Vulcan or human, she doesn’t think she has a preference.

She sees him the very first day she is back on campus. She carefully schools her expression. “Commander Spock!”

“Cadet Uhura,” he replies, his tone even where hers rises. “I trust you had an acceptable winter break.”

“I did,” Nyota says. “And you?”

“Likewise.” Spock isn’t looking at her and she’s not sure why.

“You have a good TA this semester?” Nyota moves her left foot to be perfectly in line with her right foot. Spock’s eyes finally land on her.

“I am uncertain as to his abilities as I have not yet worked with him. His grades are above average, but that is not an accurate measure of his ability to perform the duties I will ask him to.”

“Hanging prepositions, Commander?” Nyota laughs a little. “Have you slept well?”

Spock shifts his weight slightly. “Pardon?”

“That was the most human sentence I’ve ever heard you utter.”

The commander actually looks uncomfortable. Nyota didn’t even know he was capable of that.

“Good day,” he says abruptly, and walks around her.

Nyota isn’t entirely sure what just happened.

*

She actually has sex for the first time in a year to convince herself she’s over Commander Spock and his stupidly beautiful face. It doesn’t work, and she scrambles to get dressed again, cursing under her breath. 

“You were great,” Nyota says, but her hands are fastening her bra and she isn’t even looking at her hookup.

“Is that an ‘I won’t be seeing you again?’” 

The man is handsome and honestly very good in bed, but Nyota wants nothing more right now than to never see him again.

“Yes,” she snaps. “Goodnight.”

*

It’s February before Nyota sees Spock again. He’s in the cafeteria for some reason, eating his salad alone. Nyota does not go to him or sit next to him.

Spock ends up on a turbolift with her in March. Neither of them say a word.

In April, Nyota runs twice the amount she normally does in the gym when Spock appears three treadmills down. She finally dismounts, her breathing heavy and sports bra absolutely soaked. She walks past him, her gaze straight ahead, but she knows that his shirt is free of sweat.

After class, she goes for another run. Spock isn’t there, but Bones is, and he greets her with some complaint about his treadmill.

Nyota can barely walk, her leg muscles are trembling so hard from overexertion. She is still thinking about Spock when she steps under the sonic for the second time and when she climbs the too many steps to her dorm.

“Feelings are the fucking dumbest thing ever,” she exclaims to Gaila.

“Okay,” Gaila says. “You’re gonna go get the paperwork to ask him on a date, aren’t you?

“Goddamn it, I am.” Nyota slams her bag down on her desk with more force than necessary. “You’re right. I’m going to Lifeform Resources and fucking asking them for a padd so I can ask fucking Commander Spock on a date.”

Gaila smiles smugly. “Go have some hot sex with a Vulcan, Nyota. I support you.”

*

Nyota marches to Spock’s office with still sore legs and doesn’t bother with any formalities when she places the padd on his desk. 

“I have persistent feelings for you that will not leave,” she says. “Now sign the padd so I can ask you to go on a date with me.”

Spock’s mouth parts slightly. “Cadet Uhura,” he starts, and his breath comes out heavy. “Is this a joke?”

“Of course it isn’t, Spock. Your mother told me she thought there might be something going on last year, and she was right. Now sign the damn padd.”

Spock takes the padd from her hand. Nyota watches while he signs his name and rank. The first stitch is made. 

“Does tomorrow night work?” she asks, the moment his stylus leaves the padd.

“Yes,” he says, his voice leaning towards her. “I will be finished with work at 1900 hours.”

Another stitch through the fabric.

“That’s settled, then.” Nyota takes the padd from his desk. “I’ll drop this off at LR on the way back to my dorm.”

“Wait,” Spock says. His hand reaches out as if to touch her arm. He withdraws it before he makes contact with her sleeve. “How long have these feelings persisted?”

“A long time.”

“I was unsure-” Spock starts. “I did not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” Nyota smiles. “I wasn’t even sure you liked me back, but there were little things that added up. And I was never going to get any peace of mind if I didn’t ask.”

“Have you?”

Nyota clutches the padd. “What?”

“Have you received peace of mind?”

“Oh. I suppose I have. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Spock nods. “Good afternoon, Cadet Uhura.”

Nyota laughs. “You can use my first name.”

“Very well. Good afternoon, Nyota.”

She wants to hold the way he says her name close to her chest. “Goodbye, Spock.”

*

He doesn’t kiss her on the first date, or the second, or the third. Nyota finally takes matters into her own hands on the fifth date.

Spock seems surprised for a split second, and then he’s running his fingers down hers. His breathing is slightly shaky when he says, “I should have known you performed thorough research before undertaking a relationship with a Vulcan.”

Nyota nods. “I learned what little I could. I still don’t know your sexual practices outside of the marriage bond.”

Spock inhales sharply when Nyota circles her thumb around his ring finger. “You are aware Vulcans are a private race.”

“Of course I am. I’m dating one.”

“It is not unheard of to engage in sexual relations outside of the marriage bond, but it is unusual,” Spock says, his tone wavering as Nyota applies pressure to his palm.

“So if we were to have sex right now, we wouldn’t be breaking any rules?”

“No,” Spock says, his voice cracking slightly.

“Just checking,” Nyota says, and slides her legs over his.

He asks to meld with her. She hesitates.

She knots the thread and nods.


	3. This is how they bend

Nyota is shaking from anger. She allowed the anger to take over her limbs so completely because if she had not, fear would have. She is not ready to lose Spock, not like that.

They’ve been talking about bonding. Nyota doesn’t think it’s a good idea anymore. If Spock could so ruthlessly forget about her and choose death over a life with her, then they shouldn’t be talking about such a deep connection anymore.

Spock actually looks like a kicked puppy when she does not undress for bed that night in his quarters.

“I’m not staying,” Nyota says.

She hasn’t visited her assigned quarters once in the year they’ve been in space. She doesn’t want to sleep in her too-empty bed, absent of Spock’s heat. She doesn’t want to sit at her desk, that does not have a plomeek plant at the back right corner. She misses the large tub that the First Officer and Captain have in their shared bathroom when she stands in her tiny sonic shower every morning. She misses the soft motion of Spock’s thumb against her hip right as he falls asleep, the heat of his hand spread across her stomach.

But the anger is a knife that has sliced the stitches that join them; the pain she feels at the thought of losing Spock without saying goodbye, without him giving a thought to her, this is what makes her choose restless sleep and cooler air in her quarters.

She will wait for him to apologize. Until Spock realizes what he has done wrong, she will not smile at him again. She will sit next to him on the bridge, their stations six feet apart and their bodies with miles between them. She will choose to eat her meals with Lieutenant Hardy and Christine Chapel instead of with Spock and Jim and Bones.

The anger fades after a week, but Nyota will not back down, no matter how much she misses Spock.

It takes him a month before he fits the scraps of fabric together.

Spock places two fingertips on Nyota’s arm when they get off alpha shift, a touch so small it doesn’t even last an inhale.

Her eyes flash when they meet his.

“A private word, Lieutenant Uhura,” Spock says, his voice deep and low.

Kirk is watching them from his chair. Nyota and he have enough of a friendship that he got drunk with her the first week. He didn’t ask questions, just poured tequila down his throat with her and made sure she got to her quarters okay.

“Commander Spock,” Nyota replies, and it’s a little more tight than she wants it to be, but it shouldn’t have taken him so long.

Spock follows her to her quarters, standing just inside her door. He looks awkward and out of place. Nyota wants to go to him and run her hands through his hair; soothe the anxiety that wrinkles the corners of his mouth. She can read him so well after the years of loving him.

She is not going to go to him when he has not apologized for his selfish behavior.

Spock takes a full minute and a half before he speaks. Nyota waits. She knows he is gathering his thoughts.

“I understand now why you believe my actions were selfish.”

The ire rises in Nyota’s throat, dormant for weeks now. “I don’t think that. They _were_ selfish. _You_ were selfish. A relationship is two people. You cannot make decisions that affect both of our futures without even a courtesy nod towards me.”

She sits on the edge of her bed and unzips her boots, her hands shaking slightly with fury.

“If all you came here to do is to validate my anger, you can go,” she spits out, not looking up at Spock.

“I apologize for my phrasing. My actions were selfish. I am sorry, Nyota, for causing you pain. I am sorry I chose not to think of you. I regret it,” Spock replies.

The twist of his voice on her name makes her look up. He sounds tired, and Nyota knows that he hasn’t been sleeping well either.

But Spock has rekindled her anger, and she’s not going to accept his apology that easily.

“I forgive you,” she says, reaching around to unzip her uniform dress. “But you have to show me you mean it.”

Nyota steps out of her dress, pulling her undershirt over her head. Spock’s tongue darts across his lips when she unhooks her bra. Her ears catch the small hitch in his breath when she steps out of her underwear.

Spock’s cheeks are flushed green when he takes two steps forward.

“Am I to understand this is not a situation of mutual gratification?”

Nyota does not reach out to touch him as he takes another step closer.

“Ten points to Spock,” she says, smiling just a little bit.

Spock’s hands are warmer than she remembers. _It’s been too long_ , she thinks, as his fingers trace down the curve of her ass to rest at the backs of her thighs.

He kneels, carefully tucking his legs underneath him. “I mean it,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of her pubic bone.

Nyota gasps when he lowers his mouth to her, stumbling back onto her bed for stability. Spock follows her, splaying a hand across her stomach when she throws her head back.

“A suitable apology,” Nyota pants when he wipes his mouth on his hand.

He sleeps in her quarters that night. Nyota gets eight hours for the first time all month. Spock sleeps with his mouth pressed against the top of her spine.

They are not quite the same after, the memory of Nyota’s anger and pain still lingering whenever Spock goes on an away mission. She clings to him now like she never did before, but the seams where they are sewn together are stretched now and she has to lengthen her legs to close the distance between them.


	4. This is how they bleed

Losing Jim for a couple of hours… Nyota doesn’t know how to talk about it. She who knows so many tongues has none for the grief of her captain and friend. Spock talks less about it than he did about his mother, but that doesn’t mean much, because he felt his family bond shatter with Amanda, that gaping emptiness where she had always existed in his mind. 

Jim and Spock are close, Nyota knows. She’s still unsure what exactly happened in Spock’s brain when he went after Khan with the intent to kill. But he doesn’t talk about it, and she is not going to push on the bruise.

Nyota knows because she is friends with a doctor that there’s likely internal bleeding with how deep the bruising is. She thinks a few threads have come loose, but she’s trying so desperately to cling to the love of her life that she doesn’t want to look.


	5. This is how they break

The knife is out of its sheath again, slicing through the ragged stitches. Nyota cannot believe the audacity of Spock sometimes. 

_ How logical. Tell your human girlfriend of four years you need to go bang some Vulcan chick and have a bunch of babies.  _

She actually says, “If you don’t leave right now, Spock, I  _ will _ rip those bangs from your forehead and light them on fire.”

Spock’s mouth opens and closes again. He turns and leaves, even though they are in his quarters right now. Nyota stands, her hands shaking. She goes to the closet and starts ripping her clothes out. 

_ The fucking nerve _ , she thinks as she grabs at her underwear.  _ Of course he couldn’t just break up with me. He had to twist the knife and not even know it. He’s so fucking oblivious. Fucking Vulcans with their hoity-toity ways and “it’s only logical I repopulate my species.” _

Nyota storms down the corridors to the nearest turbolift. Chekov stares at her arms full of clothing but he knows better than to say anything to Liuetenant Uhura when she has that look on her face and that clench to her jaw. Ensign Ro actually scuttles away from Nyota outside her quarters. 

Nyota dumps her clothes on her bed and marches back to the turbolift. Her jaw is going to hurt later, she knows, but she is  _ so fucking done _ right now she doesn’t care. 

She knows that Spock will come to his quarters tonight and immediately notice her things gone from his room. She wants him to feel her loss, because there is no way in hell she is going to make this easy for him if he’s just going to stand there insisting on the logical thing to do, when he knows nothing about love is logical.

Nyota sits next to him on the bridge and does not even offer her customary smile. She knows Jim has noticed, and she does not care. They’ll be in Yorktown soon, and Spock will resign, and she’ll be left to do her job on this ship with her friends. It will be fine. She’s gone through breakups before.

*

It is not fine, not when his mouth twists like that saying goodbye, not when he refuses to take back Amanda’s necklace. Nyota’s throat closes up as she tucks it under her uniform again. 

“She would have wanted you to have it,” Spock had said when he first gave it to her. 

“Alright,” Nyota had replied, and she hasn’t taken it off since.

It hasn’t felt like anything in the two years she’s been wearing it, but now she can feel the weight of the pendant heavy on her chest. Maybe she should just stop wearing it. But she doesn’t want to just dump it anywhere, and she still cares about Spock, no matter how much she wishes she didn’t. 

Nyota doesn’t take it off, but she knows the thread has frayed and knotting it again will only hurt. She picks the thread from her uniform and tosses it in the garbage receptacle.


	6. This is how they mend

The seams are crooked, the stitches too small and careful. The knife is dulled and in its sheath.

Spock calls her  _ ashayam  _ now when they are in other crew members’ company. It is not much. He kisses her cheek and holds her hand occasionally, but not often enough that it is an easy thing.

Nyota knows she cannot expect more. She knows there is a rigidness to Spock’s ways and her relationship with him has bent more rules than even his existence. She also knows that she will not compromise her humanity for him. So their hands brush ever so slightly in the turbolift and his knee might press against hers for a little long while they eat.

He will find her and tell her every time he goes on an away mission. He will promise not to place himself in harm’s way more than necessary. She will know that he has his duties, as she does.

They will find each other at the end of every shift. They will choose each other because they have fought too hard to choose otherwise. They will choose each other because they do not want someone else.

*

Nyota smiles at Spock at the end of the five years. “If we had a child, there would be Vulcan blood in its veins.”

Spock cocks his head. “What purpose does this statement of fact serve?”

“I’m saying, Spock, that if we had a child, it would mean something for your species. Repopulating and all that.” She holds her breath. Nyota has kept this thought from him even while they were melded.

His eyebrows narrow. “You wish for us to have a child?”

“Yes, Spock. I even said it in a roundabout Vulcan way for you. You should be happy.” Nyota’s eyes twinkle.

“I would be amenable to that,” Spock says. His voice is controlled, but the way he clenches her hand to his side before pulling her in for a kiss says what he cannot say with words.

Nyota doesn’t need to wield a needle anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I started this at the beginning of May in the middle of class, and I didn't really touch it again until a couple of days ago. I have a million other things I should be working on, but hey! I'm cleaning out my WIPs, so that's something at least! 
> 
> I've haven't written spuhura in like a month but I missed them, so I decided to finish this and give them some more love!


End file.
